Page 12 of Betrothed

Suddenly, her selflessness and dedication to helping others shone in a different light.

“Kenz…”

She looked back at me, her cheeks now bright red.

I swore she was going to deny it. I saw the subtle way her spine straightened, and her eyes flicked to the door to flee. This was so important—so personal to her that she was willing to sacrifice what she’d come here for in order to keep it a secret from me.

“Here.” I handed the books to her before she could run.

If she had a child, it wasn’t any of my business. These books were here for me—for reference—but they were available to the residents, too. And if this was something she wanted to research privately or with Callie or, hell, even another lawyer, I wasn’t here to pry. No one was forced to use me as their council, and plenty had used others in the past.

This would be no different because she was no different.Something wrenched painfully in my chest at the thought, my heart seeming to hammer out the wordbullshit.But I ignored it.

“Sorry,” I said gruffly, stepping back and grabbing my gym duffel from the floor. “I just came back for this. I’ll get out of your hair.” I slung it onto my shoulder. “If you have any questions… or anything…” I trailed off, losing myself in her bottomless gaze for a second. “Well, I’m here,” I said, wrapping my hand around the back of my neck. “Good night.”

I would respect that. I didn’t want to, but I would.

I headed for the door when her voice stopped me.

“Zeke.”

I turned. Kenzie looked at me with a mix of wonder and gratitude on her face, and my muscles pulled tight. I’d seen that expression plenty of times before—the one that confessed no one had respected her or her wishes in the past. But though I’d seen it plenty of times, it never quite filled me with rage like it did now.

This woman pushed herself to be there for everyone around her, and tonight was case in point. It was only at ten-goddamn-thirty that she was in here looking for something for herself.Just like I was.

“Thank you.”

I couldn’t stop the shudder that ripped through me. I’d been thanked for a helluva lot in my lifetime—a helluva lot that I’d done to help. But this was the first time I could recall being thanked fornotdoing something.

For not overstepping and demanding answers. For not prying. For not taking my position of power in this house and over her to get information I had no right to.

I gritted my teeth and swallowed. I should feel good about it, but I didn’t. All I felt was unworthy. I didn’t want her gratitude. I wanted to know who’d hurt her—who’d broken her trust so damn bad she hesitated to confide in me.Me.A man she’d known for six months. A man she’d interacted with and seen help other women who were struggling. A man who did his damnedest—who gave his all—to help everyone around him.

I’d never claim to be a saint, but goddamn, I knew I was a good man.Just not good enough for her to trust.

My fist balled at my side, wanting nothing more than to reach for her. To promise she could trust me. To promise I’d respect anything she had to tell me. To promise that I would fix it. But I did none of those things.

“I’m always here to help,” I murmured low, reaching for the door, and then added, “Always.”

And then I spun and strode down the hall and out of the house before the emotions gnawing at my gut made me say something I’d regret.

* * *

“Twice in one day.What’s the occasion?”

I looked in the direction of the voice. Benny stood in the corner of the Iron Works gym wiping off the leg press machine.

I chuckled and headed in his direction. “Full moon maybe?”

I hadn’t noticed him—hadn’t noticed any of the other three guys in the room when I’d entered. My body was on autopilot, heading for the barbells, while my mind was stuck on a spin cycle, replaying not only my conversation with Kenzie over and over again, but the truth she wouldn’t admit.

She had a child.

I shouldn’t have walked here wondering how old her kid was. If she had a boy or a girl.Wondering what the hell kind of man let a woman like Kenzie go…

The reason she wanted those books was obvious: she wanted custody—at least part of it. With a history of abuse, a judge would’ve given someone else, presumably the child’s father, legal custody over the kid.

“I didn’t know you were a member here,” Benny said, clapping me on the back in greeting.